I was finishing up my degree at my NYC university during the summer of '04 & living in the E. Village with WAY too many roommates. It was a great summer & I wish I was able to appreciate it for what it was at the time, but I was plagued with worry about my future plans & I was busy encountering douchebags on select nights of the week when my roommate Derek started dating a model connected w the NYC club scene. This meant that we all got into all the clubs free of charge & drank for free, etc...
Prior to this summer, I had been to a few of the clubs a few times. It was fine. Not awesome. I find the NYC club scene very different than the club scene in any other city I've lived in... & it attracts a very different crowd. I recall ordering 2 red bulls w vodka & it costing over $40.00. As a broke college student w parents who did NOT give me thousands of dollars to spend on my social life (or anything, for that matter), I was in the minority at my school. So this red bull-vodka experience taught me that I was only going to a club if my drinks were somehow paid for by someone other than me. So I usually found some dude or multiple dudes to buy me drinks & then I'd ditch them to hang w whoever I came with. Again, not that cool. Bc you always had to worry about them following you around or getting mad at you & before the drink was actually purchased, you had to TALK to these d-bags.
Let me describe these clubbing d-bags: DEFINITELY wore clothing more carefully selected & more expensive than me. Right down to their socks. Their hair was perfectly coiffed & they were rich as sh*t w money to blow (or were at least willing to blow money keep the appearance that they were rich as sh*t). But the problem: they had NOTHING to do w their own wealth- it was all from their parents. And they'd, like, brag about who their mom/dad/friends were. So lame! A FEW of them were bankers or something, but... they were at a club. How much cooler would they be if they were just having a beer at some Irish pub w a few friends for happy hour instead of wearing shimmering shirts, drinking girly drinks & wearing shiny shoes whilst dancing to club music? Perhaps they just weren't my type. Either way, hanging out w them was painful. Our only aligning interests were the gossip websites. A guy who knows some celebrity gossip can be fun, but once he knows too much & then brags about hanging out w Tara Reid (as if this is something to brag about) & the Hiltons? Not a turn on. At all.
So during this summer, Derek met this model & we all went to clubs. Being at the club was like watching a wannabe fashion show- just a ton of boring model-types w nothing really to talk about. Not that it mattered, since you really couldn't hear anybody anyway. One time I was waiting for a bartender to ask me what I wanted & a guy approached me & handed me the drink I was about to order (I was holding my empty). He said, 'I bought this for you.' I was grateful, as I had like $10 total on me. He asked if I wanted to go out for a smoke. While we were outside, he immediately began rattling off what he determined to be his "credentials." Obvi, they included what his dad did (something high up in Perry Ellis) & then started listing the celebs he's friends w. This was towards the end of a summer filled w such encounters, and I never felt so alone at that moment. I hated this guy- and all guys like him- and I never wanted to hang out or talk to anyone like him again. It was at this time that I decided I needed to get out of NYC- although I had been gradually going home to hang out w my friends there more & more, I'd been missing grass and other cities I lived in where there was no pressure to go out on a Sunday & even if you wanted to- clubs/bars/etc... were pretty much empty anyway. I wanted a normal life. Disclaimer: I realize now that a normal life in NYC can be a reality, but at this time I didn't... or it was really far out of reach due to my poverty & college-student status. I was probably clinically depressed at this time as well & going through a quarter-life crisis. I may have even been on antidepressants.
I smoked my cigarette as fast as I could, but I realized I couldn't ditch this dude after 1 sip of the drink he bought me and in the middle of our one-sided convo. So I suffered through a few more minutes before I began to walk home (I didn't wanna spend my last $10 on cab fare... this way I could actually get coffee & a bagel in the morning). He asked for my number & I gave him a fake one.
While I had many positive experiences that summer, the combination of my poverty & depression spoiled my ability to fully appreciate a lot of the good times I was having. But when I left, I never looked back- I'd rather financially struggle in a different city where at least they had dollar draft specials & other poor people like me- and guys who liked sports & beer pong & often struggled in the area of fashion.
This turned into an "I hate NYC" post, I feel like. But I don't hate NYC. I just hated my specific life in NYC during my last 2 semesters of college. I was living w too many people, I didn't have my own room (I actually shared a bed w another girl), & I had a sh*tty low-paying job. I miss the food, the subway, cabs, everything being open 24 hrs, the good times that I had - especially partying at my old apartment, some of my friends, & walking in the city. In no other city is simply walking such a pleasure. I guess I just wish more people I could relate to inhabited that city... or maybe that I came across those people. This may be a direct result of the area I lived in & the university I attended. I dunno. Either way- I had my ups & downs.
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